Bellum Inter Terra
by ephraimoyo
Summary: Two years after the war against Bern, Bern begins mobilizing its army for yet another invasion. This time, however, they outnumber the United Lycian Army. Roy calls on the help of King Ephraim of Renais. Is this enough to stop them?
1. Chapter I

**This is the first Chapter of my story, Bellum Inter Terra. It's a Fire Emblem fic (duh) that will be packed with adventure, drama, romance and all that good stuff. For now, enjoy the read!**

**Chapter I**

Roy gazed at the open pasture before him. The tall grass blades swayed gently in the breeze, as did his hair. The sky was dotted with silver-lined clouds, the white masses lazily drifting across the summer afternoon sky. An eagle was soaring above the young man, circling and gazing sore something to eat down below. Somewhere in the distance, a songbird sang its cheery song. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, one that was fabled in the many court songs and children's rhymes. But unlike the tales of knights and ladies escaping to the pastures, or the town festival in the country, Roy wasn't there for peaceful things; behind him was a small group of soldiers, each armed and ready for battle. Most of them, save one, were not too much older than Roy himself, but each was a seasoned veteran from the Dragon Wars two years ago.

Roy was different than most nobles his age. Unlike his noble teenage friends, Roy was not taking strolls on purebred horses, or enjoying tea at noon. Roy was leading an army into yet another conflict. The seventeen year old had already experienced the ups and downs of war, the victories and defeats. The people of Lycia believed that he was the best option to head the United Lycian Army since Lord Hector had passed and Eliwood was still sick. To acknowledge his position, he was even given the headdress of Supreme Commander, the gold and silver metal band fit snug atop his head. The emblem of the Army was an eagle carrying the Sword of Seals perpendicular to the ground. It was worn on all the armor of each soldier and mercenary in the army. At first, Roy was reluctant to have the symbol become that of the army (a characteristic the older members of the Lycian league said he inherited from his father, modesty), but eventually agreed to the plea.

Roy turned around to face the small group of soldiers that had been following him to the pasture. One of the armor clad soldiers stepped forward towards Roy.

"Why exactly have we met up here?" asked the light blue haired soldier with the steel blade slung over his shoulder. Dieck had fought with Roy throughout most of the Burn Campaign, even coming to his rescue at a critical point in the early stages of the war. The swordsman was known nationwide when he returned for his strong strikes and parrying ability with his shield. He was one of Roy's most loyal soldiers, carrying out any order, no matter how absurd, with steadfast courage.

"I brought you all out here because…" Roy started. He glanced at the soldiers. He took a moment to count and discovered that he was short two men.

"Has anyone seen Lords Kent and Sain?" Roy asked, forgetting all about the two paladins. As if on cue, two horses appeared at the very far side of the pasture, their white bodies making rapid progress. Atop the horse on the left was a tall man with red hair and a red beard. On the other horse was a muscular man wearing green paladin's armor. He had long green hair that seemed to match the grass in the pasture. His grin was recognizable from miles away. One of the soldiers stepped forward with a puzzled look on his face.

"Dad!? Why are _you _here?" Lance asked himself as he watched his meddlesome father approach. Lance and Sain were complete opposites: while Sain preferred to flirt with women and recklessly charge into battle, Lance analyzed the situation, but was still "smooth" with the ladies. Sain blamed Kent for his son's seriousness since he spent much time with the longtime friend of his father. Kent's son Alan was also like Kent, but with a fiery passion Sain claimed to have come from him, despite the fact that Alan rarely spent time with him.

As the two approached, Roy waived his hand for them to stop, hoping that they would be listening and not quarreling over something minute like they always had. Rutger sighed as the two finally came to a halt in front of him.

"What's wrong Rutger, having a bad day?" Sain asked, flipping his long green hair behind him.

"Yeah," Rutger replied. "and you just made it worse."

Rutger was a man of few words, but expressed his emotions through his fighting. Like other eastern swordsman, he wielded a single-edged word, made with a strange pale green metal only found in the lands of Sacae. Rutger was not accepted with open arms by Roy's party when he first joined his cause, but was then respected as both a good friend and fighter.

"Oh ho! Sorry to hear that my friend. Hope the day gets better for ya,"

"It will once you stop running your mouth."

Sain sighed and turned towards Roy.

"Master Roy, why exactly have we gathered here today? It's a fine afternoon, and there's a race today. I have five thousand on my servant's horse. Neil _does_ produce great race horses, ya know."

Roy looked at Sain with a serious face, then glanced at the others with the same emotionless face.

" I've gathered you all here today to tell you that we will soon be going to war. According to our spies in Bern, they are preparing for another invasion of Lycia. This cannot stand. Even with the combined power of the United Lycian Army, we will not be able to defeat their new army. According to sources, they have added twelve new regiments of wyvern riders, twenty new cavalry units, and a platoon of mages." Roy said as he glanced into the eyes of each member present.

"Hm," Kent started. "That is quite a formidable force. Those new units alone probably outnumber our current army two to one. Include the rest of their army and we are a sure goner. Requesting help this early is a vain effort. Most of the countries outside of Lycia will not agree to lend aid without a definite sign of invasion."

"I'm afraid you're wrong on that point, Sir Kent," Roy started. "I have requested the assistance of a country with plenty of military might. Enough to maybe counter that of Bern."

Kent looked at Roy with a surprised look on his face.

"Master Roy, where exactly can you get such a large force from? Ostia has signed a treaty to remain neutral unless attack, and besides them, there's not another country on this continent to stop their might." A sly smile appeared across the young Roy's face as Kent finished his sentence.

"You're exactly right Sir Kent, there isn't a military force on _this _continent to stop Bern from running rampant. That's why the Army of Renais is going to come here and assist us in the fighting."

Dieck scrunched his lip up on one side of his mouth.

"How can you trust an entire army to help us? More importantly, how do you know that the leader of this army isn't allied with Bern? None of us have even heard of this country!" Dieck asked. One thing that Roy had found out about Dieck was that he was a vey cautious person. Roy thought that maybe being a mercenary, he wasn't entirely sure that he had the trust of his clients, and that once his job was over, they may try to force him to join their army or face death. He would have usually fought his way out of the latter. Even after the group had won battles, he would get a group of volunteers to stay behind and check all the houses and buildings to make sure that all resistance was crushed. It was very hard to earn that man's trust.

"Well Dieck, I have been corresponding with King Ephraim for some time now, since the end of the War to be specific, and I believe he is a trustworthy person," Roy started. "He lead a band of four soldiers, including him, into the heart of a military powerhouse like Bern and took one of their key forts, so I have confidence in his leadership skills. He has to be trustworthy if only three other men traveled with him to take the fort, am I right?"

"So? Military accomplishments mean nothing. We have never met this 'King Ephraim' or heard of his miraculous capture. What if he helps defeat Bern, then turns against everyone else and take over the whole continent in Renais' name?" Rutger asked, his face stolid.

"Why can't anyone just trust Master Roy instead of criticizing his decisions?" A voice said. The group turned towards what seemed to be a talking patch of grass. Rising from the tall grass was the beautiful young woman with her shiny black hair tied into a ponytail. Fir rose from the ground, brushing the grass off of her outfit.

"I think he's making sense! If there is a chance to defeat Bern with another army larger that ours, why not take the chance? Besides Bern _knows _how we fight. This new army may have different tactics not yet seen here in Elibe, tactics that could easily overcome Bern's infamous wyvern riders!"

Fir was the daughter of two famous fighters. Bartre still served as one of Eliwood's most trusted guards, while her mother Karla passes when she was young. Her uncle Karel was a wandering swordsman that fought alongside Roy in the war, but soon left after the final battle. Fir returned to Lycia with Roy and company and rose up in the ranks. Due to her distinct fighting style, similar to Rutger's, she asked to start a separate branch from the main sword-wielding infantry branch. This was a covert ops sector, trained in killing strikes, learning the vital points on humans, wyverns and horses alike. They carried a special single-edged sword made of silver, extremely sharp and given a special coat of paint that did not reflect light. They were also trained in the art of the short bow and arrows, carried as long distance weapons.

Roy sighed as Fir got out her say. Ever since she had joined his group back during the War, she had been what seemed to be more than loyal to him, and he almost felt the same way back. She had been a great friend during the war, and when she decided to travel back with him, he was delighted. They continued to talk through letters since she had joined the army and he was at the palace, still taking care of his father. There was a period of three months when Fir stopped writing Roy; her close friend Noah was killed in a training accident. She went through a low, relying on alcohol to lighten her up, until she woke up sometime the next day feeling like crap. She one day decided to get over his death and the alcohol and returned to the army. Even though her bubbly personality is well known, Roy sometimes saw it as a façade, covering up the uncontrollable emotions of a seemingly young girl.

"I agree with Lady Fir," Alan piped. "We must give King Ephraim a chance. If push comes to shove, we will defeat him and his army, simple as that." Roy nodded his head.

"I think Alan is right. That's our best option if everything goes sour. But I'm ninety nine percent sure that Ephraim is a reliable person. Besides, I'd rather die fighting Bern than to be taken as a prisoner. Am I right?" The group nodded and a small smile appeared across the face of Lance.

"It would be an honor dying under your command, Master Roy!" he said.

"Sure would!" Sain said. "After all, they do say 'like father like son'. I followed your father's commands 'til near death and I will again lend my strength for you!"

Soon, a swell of nationalism occurred amongst the group each raising their fists in the air. After more chatter, Roy finally let out a burst of excitement, an emotion that had been suppressed since the days of the War.

"All for Lycia! All for Lycia!" Their hands were raised forming a close bond, like those soldiers to their country.

Forde dashed into the throne room of the Renais castle. In his hands was a large canvas, a freshly painted portrait finished the night before.

"Lord Ephraim! Lord Ephraim! Look at what I painted!" The excited artist exclaimed. After defeating Grado and Prince Lyon, Forde had taken up his passion for the arts as his new career, abandoning the ways of fighting in favor of a more "civilized" duty. He was appointed court artist after Ephraim found him in his quarters painting a portrait instead of at the daily knightly routines. His artistic abilities surprised even Ephraim, who though of his as a lazy scoundrel throughout his military service.

The smitten Forde stopped short of the throne, seeing that Ephraim was busy reading some papers. He glanced up at his friend and smiled.

"What brings you here, Forde? Another painting?" The king asked with a slightly playful tone. Forde scurried closer to the King, his friend, and revolved the painting towards the king.

"It's my latest and best work yet!"

Ephraim was surprised to see a portrait of him and his sister in the royal hall just outside the throne room. The painting was disgustingly detailed, from the gentle curves and shading of Ephraim's armor, to the ornate headdress worn by his sister Eirika, the Queen, it was truly a work of art.

"Why Forde, that's simply amazing! In fact, I want it to be the royal portrait of my sister and me. I think it would go beautifully with the portraits of the kings and queens before, don't you think?" Forde agreed with Ephraim, a huge smile on his face.

"Wow! That's quite an honor! I must record this in my logs!" As Forde proceeded out the door, Ephraim called him back into the throne room.

"Forde," he said, his tone changing to a serious one, the voice that sounded eerily familiar to the voice of Commander Ephraim of two years past. "I have something to ask of you," Forde turned around, his smile gone but his happy emotion still apparent.

"What is it, M'lord?" Forde asked. Ephraim sighed.

"A country on the continent of Elibe has requested our help in an upcoming conflict. I have made the decision to aid them in their war, provided that we receive goods upon victory, among other things. I would like to ask you a favor. Is it possible that you be the Supreme Commander of the Cavalry? Will you answer this call to service Forde?"

Forde looked dead into the eyes of his friend, his King. He dropped to one knee.

"I, Forde of Renais, accept this call to action. I…"

"Please Forde, must you make _everything_ so _dramatic_? I was really just looking for a simple 'yes' or 'no' answer, but I do believe that works too. You are dismissed,"

With that, Forde scrambled out the room, leaving the painting in the middle of the long, ornate rug that ran from the throne to the exit fifty meters away. Ephraim put a hand to his face, sighing. He rustled his hair, clinching the light blue locks.

"What are we up against?" he murmured to nobody in particular.

"What have I gotten us into? I have a bad feeling about this,"

**That's the end of Chapter I! Read and be sure to leave some comments/suggestions! Thanks and enjoy! ~Ephraimoyo**


	2. Chapter II

**I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my story. This chapter will be much more exciting than the last one (most intro chapters are boring anyway…). Anyways, enjoy the read!**

**Chapter II: The Onslaught Begins**

Roy gazed out the large stained glass windows his private quarters. Outside, a gentle rain began descending, slowly but steadily falling towards the earth. Thunder rolled between the hills that lay beyond the castle walls. Roy sat at his desk, reading a journal of his father's accounts during the Second Dragon War some twenty seven years past. The candle flickered, its shadow in a game of tag with the orange refulgent light dashing from the flame. The candle lit more than the sheets of paper that lay before him, but that entire side of the room. Roy wasn't too focused on the personal or emotional aspects of his father's journey, but the militaristic side. He read about his father's and Lord Pent's invasion of the Bern Royal castle, how Nergal had used magic to increase the strength of the wyvern commander Vaida's power. As he read on further, he read his father's recollection of the battle to Shrine of Seals, facing the menacing Linus and his army of the animate morphs. Roy continued to read until the final page of the book was upturned to his face. He closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. Roy believed that personal experience was more useful in studying an opponent than that of old military tactics record scrolls. Roy flopped on his bed, exhausted from his reading, and dozed off.

Ephraim secured the final piece of armor that made up his old plating. He didn't like changing what worked, and this armor had worked for him for several years and during wartime. Though it wasn't the armor of a nobleman, though it had its own distinct quality of having a pure white cape instead of the usual red and light green issued one. The cape was lined with gold thread, made from the finest materials available. Ephraim had gained a few pounds since he had been appointed the King of Renais, so the armor fit more snug to his body. As he stepped out his quarters, he stopped when he saw _her _in front of him. It was his wife, Tana.

"Where do you think you're going, all dressed up like you're going to lead an army into battle?" She asked, hands on her hips. Even though Ephraim thought of Tana as annoying when they first met as young children, over the years he became more tolerable of her and even felt a tinge of infatuation from the long blue-haired beauty. After the war, he took her hand in proposal and they were wed several months later. Even though she was technically the Queen of Renais, she seceded her position in order for Ephraim's sister to rule, even though she was a favorite among the commoners.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do in fact. A nation in Elibe has requested our help. The young man leading their forces isn't too much younger than me, and we've been communicating for several years now. I do believe I've earned his trust," Ephraim gallantly replied, sticking his chest out slightly. Tana drove her eyebrows together in fury.

"So you want to take all off our troops, sail off to an unknown country, help a person you've never even met before, defeat a gigantic army, and sail back like everything's okay?"

"Yup,"

Tana sighed. She looked up at Ephraim, the fury replaced with the eternal love and concern of a man's wife.

"Well, I guess there's no stopping you once you've put your mind to something, we learned that few years back, mister 'I'm gonna take three knights with me and attack a military powerhouse!'"

"I did it though right? This time I'll have even more soldiers with me, so my return is guaranteed. I'll be sure to keep you in mind. I promise you now: I won't die,"

With that, he drew his wife close to him and kissed her on her lips. She returned the act of affection and clung to his back, squeezing tightly. When they parted a glistening tear began to make its way down her cheek, illuminating her skin. With his hands, he delicately removed the liquid sadness from the face of his usually bubbly wife. It was the first time in a while that he had seen her cry since the wedding.

"Good luck, Eph," she said, her face now beaming with her usual smile. He returned the gesture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"All soldiers, at attention!"

The voice of the paladin Kyle boomed across all of the dock. Ephraim and troops spent the last two days marching to Itha, the port town parallel to the coast of Elibe. They would for a week towards the coast, then go south under the southern shores of Bern, past Valor, known asthe Dread Isle, and land in Lycia. It was a difficult maneuver in part that Bern had no navy, but instead relied on wyverns to patrol its seas. The wyvern riders could spot the ships before the ships could spot them. To counter this problem, Kyle put in a place a group consisting of twenty archers on each ship, on constant duty to attack any airborne attack.

"I have put in place yet another precaution against the possibility wyvern parties. Lady Serene, a vassal from Frelia, will lead a full platoon of Pegasus knights and Falcoknights that will be broken up into front, shipside and rear guard. They will be on twenty four hour surveillance," Cheers erupted from the soldiers; anything that would give them a better possibility of living was welcome.

"Quiet! That doesn't mean we can slack off one bit! Lady Serene didn't have to do this for us, so we should be working and fighting twice as hard to make sure her and her units don't get a single scratch once we land—no, before we even set foot in Elibe!" Kyle was beginning to get worked up. As he continued to lecture about his men's fighting spirits, Ephraim checked over his own troops.

Ephraim knew he would need a variety of troops if he was going to assist, but the problem was he didn't know what the other army already had. The other issue of Renais needing an army spread throughout the kingdom was greatly aided by his dear friend Innes. Innes had lent three hundred troops to Renais during Ephraim's leave. Those consisted of fifty armor knights, fifty archers, a hundred cavalry units, and the rest were a mixed bag. Of his own troops, Ephraim took a hundred armor knights, two hundred cavalry units, a hundred archers, a hundred foot soldiers and fifty mages. Ephraim hoped that this was a sufficient force provided that, again, the army-in-need had a decent amount and variety of troops. He sighed as he gazed off at the ocean, its waters overtaking the horizon from the view of the port.

Roy arose from his sleep, the rain an even softer drizzle, like the feet of fairies joyously frolicking from leaf to leaf. The sky wasn't as grey as it had been before, with patches of the omnipresent blue breaking through the phalanx of grey clouds. Roy sat and listened to the nature outside for several moments, then proceeded to walk towards the corner of the room containing his armor and sword. The two were never far from each other, in fear that Bern, or anyone at that matter, could attack and lay siege to the castle. After securing his armor and sword, Roy proceeded out his room and down the stairs that revolved around a large central pillar made of granite. At the base of the stairs were the four usual guards chatting amongst themselves. Roy didn't pay attention to their conversation, but simply smiled and nodded as he walked by them. He made his way down the First Grand Hall and turned left, where he bumped into a wandering Rutger.

"Sorry Rutger, I'll be more careful next time," the prince said as he grinned. Rutger looked at him with his usual stolid face.

"It's fine, but I'd rather you run into me than into the spear of an enemy soldier," the quiet man replied. "You know, we should spar more often. Your fighting style may be unorthodox, but it is as effective as deadly; quite intriguing."

The scuffling of boots on wood made the two turn around. A soldier, drenched from the rains outside, stopped before them, and doubled over in exhaustion.

"Master Roy! We have visuals on a small sized Bern army approaching the castle! They're closing in fast! Estimated time of arrival is thirty minutes! What shall we do?" The soldier wheezed.

"How large did you say the force was?" Rutger asked.

"About seven hundred men. We—,"

"I thought you said it was a small army!?" Roy exclaimed.

"By Bern's standards…sir,"

"How many men do we have here ready?"

"A little under a hundred,"

Roy swore under his breath. At this rate, they were going to be decimated. If they lost here, the campaign against their attack would be useless. Ephraim's troops would be ineffective, having no army to assist. Roy and the soldiers had to defend the castle at all costs.

"Have all soldiers here take arms. I want you to send a messenger to the nearest fort, requesting for more troops. Have the three bridges to the castle raised, then get all the archers to the top of the castle with a heck of a lot of arrows; it'll be a long fight. We have two hundred feet of grass to work with once they cross they trench where the bridges are. If we make the battlefield as small as possible, then they can't get all their men here at one time. Did you get _all _of that!?"

The soldier nodded and scurried off just as fast as he had come. Rutger drew his sword.

"I'll go give the others the news,"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fir and Rutger stood in the antechamber, the last room before the wilderness beyond. Including themselves, Fir and Rutger with their personally trained soldiers made only twelve, but some of the deadliest to fight in the army. With their lightning quick strikes and foot speed, they could fell ten men before they knew what had happened. Both Fir and Rutger had preached 'speed over strength', and that was about to be put to the test. Fir shifted her weight from foot to foot impatiently as she looked out the now opened doors. Across the moat was the Bern army, now attempting to cross, foot soldiers first. The twelve rushed out the door as soon as the first climbed his way up the moat. Fir cut him down with a quick swipe of her sword, his body rolling back down into the moat.

"There's gonna be a lot more where that came from!" Fir said as she smiled. Twenty foot soldiers from the castle rushed out the door, forming a line of spears that poked at whoever climbed up out of the trench. The line was extremely effective until a ballista bolt few through the chest of a soldier, causing the line to collapse and the Bern soldiers poured in like a flood.

Fir swung the sword at an oncoming axe fighter. He parried the attack and swung the axe vertically downwards toward the ground. Fir jumped to the side, taking a clear swing at the soldier and felling him. She whirled around in time to parry a blow from an opposing swordsman. Using his strength, the soldier pushed off Fir and rushed towards her, a bull at a matador. Fir guarded against the wide horizontal swing and countered with three blindingly quick strikes. As the soldier fell to the ground, Fir smacked an enemy arrow that was heading towards her face out of the air.

"Enemy archers approaching! Pull back inside! Face forwards at all times!"

Rutger heard Fir's call and quickly finished the soldier he had been toying with the last thirty seconds. He motioned his men to follow him, each disengaging their respective opponents for the final time as they collapsed to the ground. Fir and her group were already inside by the door switch, waiting for Rutger's group and the remaining soldiers to regress into the safe haven. As the groups dashed in backwards, Fir and one of her soldiers closed the doors while avoiding the barrage of arrows coming through the opening. After the door was shut, Rutger and Fir lifted a large metal beam across the two hatches protruding from the door. Roy quickly dashed towards them.

"How is it? Are they any stronger?" asked the curious leader.

"Well," Rutger started. "They're a lot stronger physically this time around, and in better shape too, but they're still slow and use old tactics, save the portable ballista."

"How many did you kill?"

Rutger sighed. "We fought kinda hard, but in the end we may have killed about thirty, but we lost twelve. Considering they outnumber us one to seven or eight, that's a big loss on our part. We have to be careful until we get more help. Are the archers delivering the goods?"

"Yeah, Wolt is up there leading the archers. So far none of them have died, but three were wounded by ballista shots. The last report from Wolt was ten confirmed kills and about a dozen enemy injuries. Their armored units have moved up, so the arrows are beginning to become ineffective. If only we had something to help defeat those armored, we may have a chance with the arrow rain. Our only option is to wait for Josh to return with reinforcements."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josh punched the spurs of his boots into the horse's side, making it gallop faster. The nearest fort was ten more miles down the road, and at the pace he was going, he could get there in half an hour. It was a dire race against time, and he was on the losing end. He rode for several more minutes, the only sounds coming from the horse's hooves and the gentle rain about him. Another ten minutes passed, and the fort was in sight. Around it were armed soldiers, each bearing the crest of the United Lycian Army, the Sword of Seals burning bright on their sleeves. Josh waved at the group of soldiers who returned his gesture. He stopped the horse about twenty feet from the soldiers and dismounted. Their leader, a green haired young veteran name Lugh, approached him.

"Josh! I haven't seen you in a long while! But to the important matter, we have already heard about the attack, that's why my men are armed to defend this fort because I'm only taking my Magic Corps with me."

Josh winced. "But Lugh, that's only about thirty mages! We need _way _more than that to stop an army of over seven hundred!" Lugh chuckled to himself.

"Josh, magic is way more powerful than any weapon. We really don't even need to go to the castle: me and the three sages over there can cast long range Bolting spells, that will crush anything in its path, but my mages are also no too shabby with weapons, which would be of assistance considering that you _would_ like the inside of the castle to remain in tip top condition if the fighting were to occur inside, right?"

Josh smiled. He was relieved to know that his old friend hadn't changed one bit: he was still the sarcastic, conceited young mage that he had known all his life.

"We should start heading back now. No telling how things are shaping up now back at Castle Pharae. I'll prepare your—"

Lugh laughed yet again.

"Silly Josh! I have perfected a teleportation spell that allows me to travel to any place that I have visited before. Everyone, circle up!"

The mages circled up, grabbing each others' hand like a sort of pagan ceremony. Josh joined hands with Lugh, who in turn grabbed hands with the last mage, forming a complete circle.

"Are you all ready?" Lugh asked, inspecting each member of the circle. The silent nods from the mages told Lugh that they were ready.

"Tele!"

Josh saw a bright light coming from the ground below him. He looked down to see a large circle surrounding the members of the group. The light began to become more intense, forcing Josh to close his eyes. Once the light had faded, which he could tell through his shut eyelids, he reopened them to find himself in the middle of the antechamber of Castle Pharae. Not too far away from him stood Roy, Fir, Rutger and several other soldiers, staring in bewilderment. Lugh smiled.

"Hello Roy! Long time no see, eh?"

**That's the end of Chapter II. Read and Review, and look for Chapter III to be up sometimes next week!**


	3. Chapter III

**I hoped you all enjoyed Chapter II. Chapter III will take a small break from the action, and give some more background information besides the information from the present. Enjoy, and please, Read and Review! I enjoy **_**constructive**_** criticism and other thoughts about the story.**

**Chapter III**

_Two years ago, several weeks after the war. _

Roy woke abruptly as the wagon hit a depression in the road, causing his head to jerk violently. The young prince rubbed his head and ignored the "Sorry" that came from the driver. He was extremely tired: after so much fighting, he finally had a little time to rest and think things over. During the war, he barely slept, yet he never felt tired. He came to the conclusion that he was on a sort of continuous adrenaline rush. Yawning out of sheer tiredness, he tried to regress into his sleep, but the screeching of the wood and metal wheels about their axes kept him up. He sat up and looked over his papers that lay at the foot of the small makeshift mattress.

Roy had been invited to a post war council that included all belligerents in the war. Zephiel's sister, Guinevere, was the new leader of Bern, to the delight of its people. Even though the war had finished not too long ago, she began reconstruction of every part of the country that was affected, using the soldiers of the Bern Army as the work force. In turn, she began to rebuild the army itself, promoting leaders with good reputations and drafting peasant men into the organization. To the delight of the people, many affected areas began to reestablish themselves and the country seemed to be returning to its former glory. It even set up its World Fair, the large attractions not seen since the leaderships of Desmond and Zephiel. The other nations also though that the country was going in the right direction under her leadership

But the war still occurred, which was the topic of discussion in the weeks following.

Roy read over the unsent letters. During the course of the war, he came in contact with another lord in a country on the other continent by way of a friend of Merlinus. The man brought valuable goods and also brought Roy back the usual return letter from the young nobleman. Roy would then give the trader his letter, and the process would repeat. On the trader's last voyage, several days ago, he was stopped by a wyvern scouting party. The group searched the ship, and found the letter intended for Ephraim, the other lord. Intensely angered, the knights seized the merchant's ship and arrested him, pilfering his goods for themselves and taking him the capitol of Bern. Roy had promised himself that he would get the merchant freed and take the responsibilities of his "sly" actions. As Roy replaced the letters, he had one unanswered question, _Who exactly detained the merchant? I know Guinevere personally, and I know she wouldn't do such a thing as capture and seize a merchant and his goods. Is there someone else pulling the strings behind the scenes? _He had heard rumors of a new Prime Minister in Bern since the war was beginning to end, but he didn't think much of it, since Guinevere was quite independent and able all by her lonesome. _Is something wrong with Guinevere? Has something happened behind closed doors at Castle Bern?_ Roy exhaled as ominous grey clouds cluttered the blue sky yonder.

After several days of bad weather, Roy had finally arrived in Ostia, the meeting place. He was glad to take a step out of the carriage onto the soaked ground. Ostia was grand; its architecture rivaled that of the long forgotten city of Arcadia, with its almost mystical buildings with a beautifully carved blanched stone. Roy wondered how much time it took to carve just one of the meticulously ornate stones of the thousands upon thousands that made up the magnanimous parthenon-like structure located in the city of Ostia, the centre of the government. On the horizon was Castle Ostia, still not yet renovated from the assault by Bern early on in the war. As Roy proceeded up the innumerous steps, the cries of the metropolitan population began to grow louder and louder.

"Master Roy, can you slow down a little? I'm not as fast as I used to be,"

Roy turned around at hearing the familiar voice. It was none other than Marcus, his personal bodyguard since his birth. Marcus was extolled by the knights of Phareae for being radically loyal to the Kingdom. His knighthood started when Eliwood was a young child, spanning three decades that lead to the protection of Eliwood's son. Most of the knights in his class were dead or retired, serving as figureheads and landlords in the feudalist society. But Marcus remained dedicated, driven by his infatuation for his country and his leader.

Roy smiled and stopped on the stairs.

"Sir Marcus! I hadn't realized that you followed me here! I told you I was going to be fine, but yet you still insisted on coming! What charisma and dedication!" Roy said admiringly.

"Yes, indeed. This is your first meeting with the _all _the other leaders, is it not? Crazy things could happen, so I want to be within moment's notice in case you were threatened."

They continued up the stairs together, where the two doorkeepers opened the door. Roy froze, mouth agape. The building was stunning; the artwork painted in extreme detail at the enormous proportions made it seem as if they were painted on a canvas. A long row of marble pillars gave the building support, stretching from entrance to over four hundred meters down the long hall. Walking by, Roy noticed little tedious looking carvings on the pillars, surreptitious to a distant observer. They were an artistic manifestation of the history of Ostia, from its creation by Roland, to Lord Hector and his role during the previous Great War, to the gravesite where he rested with his brother, Uther. Roy tried to take in every minute detail as he walked down the grand corridor leading into the meeting chambers beyond.

Compared to the rest of the building, the meeting room was quite monotonous, but compared with other meeting rooms Roy had been in, this was a definite step above. In the center of the large round room was a table made from granite; its insipid black coloring seemed to absorb all traces of light. Roy looked around at the nobles already there. He saw the two representatives from Etruria, the blonde men chatting amongst themselves. He then turned his attention to the representative of the Western Isles, another blonde man with unkempt hair, who Roy figured was of Etrurian descent. Roy gazed over at a woman wearing the armor of a Pegasus knight. He had short silver hair cut into a bob, and the color of her armor matched her hair. Her eyes were a sky blue, a colorful anomaly to her otherwise colorless self. But she seemed to have a positive aura about her that made Roy feel like he had known her for years. _I have to talk to her when I get the chance. There's something about her I just can't seem to put my finger on. _As he took his seat, he noticed a short woman with long blue hair frolicking about, making sure that everything was ready. As she turned around to face Roy, she gasped and dashed over in his direction. It was none other than Lilina. She immediately embraced him, her grip as tight as ever.

"Roy! It's so good to see you here! It's only been a few weeks, but I miss you _so_ much! How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine. Are you representing Ostia today in the meeting?"

"Yeah I am. I'm so nervous since this is my first time, and a post war meeting isn't exactly the easiest thing to start off with,"

"I understand Lilina, but you'll do fine."

As Roy finished his sentence, an trumpeter blew a majestic call through his horn.

"Her Majesty approaches! All rise for the Queen of Bern, Queen Guinevere!"

Roy stared in bewilderment as Guinevere walked towards the room, her dress rumpled up into her hands at the hips. Roy had always seen her while she was travelling with the group, but never noticed her striking beauty. The dress she wore was apple red, covering the delicate white skin of the woman. She walked with a graceful swagger, nose angled slightly upward. Roy could read her face and tell she was troubled. He squeaked an awkward smile as she walked by. She passed by, eyeing Roy and smiling at him. She even gave a slight wave.

"Hm. She seems like she has a lot on her mind," Lilina whispered. As the Queen took her seat, the trumpeter blasted yet another call, different from the preceding.

"His Excellency approaches! All rise for the Prime Minister, Rorak!"

Roy and Lilina swiveled their heads back towards the entrance to see a man walking into the room. He was a tall yet stout man with a beard shadow running across his face. He wore a black cape and a black and white nobleman's dress shirt. At his hip was a rapier, a weapon uniform to noble male apparel. His slicked hair was black as the granite, as was his eyes. He took dark, light footsteps, gliding towards his seat. The clandestine man looked Roy straight in the eyes, sending shivers down his spine. Seeing that all the guests had arrived, Lilina made her way back to her seat, clearing her throat to make an announcement.

"Good afternoon. The Post War Council of the Bern-Lycia War is now underway. Before we begin our conversations, please sign this here record sheet,"

The sheet began moving around the table, the rustling paper the only noise at the moment. A representative from Etruria stood.

"Ah, thank you Marques Lilina for inviting us. This place is quite splendid indeed. On to the subject of debate, we have many questions for you, Queen Guinevere," The man said, his fox-like face matching his sly personality. Guinevere looked at the man with a calm sense, her red dress fading away.

"There are many confirmed reports that you are rebuilding your own country. What about the countries that defeated you empire? I do believe that you owe them some gold and goods. Have you taken into consideration the people of Ostia for example? How they were ravaged by _your _army, and yet they were forgiving enough to let you enter their country. Explanation, Your Highness?"

Guinevere looked the man in the face.

"I have intentions to pay tribute to the countries affected by our belligerent actions, but my concern is caring for my own people, my citizens. Instead of chastising me, you and your friend over there should worry about ridding the corrupt officials in the Western Isles. The money will come eventually, but right now my primary concern, like I said, is caring for my citizens. What about all the fatherless families now? _Your _men killed them,"

"As did yours, Your Highness,"

"Aye, but at least my local government leaders didn't order mercenaries to attack their own villages in search of only three people. How shameful."

The man sneered, his brow furrowed out of anger. He sighed and gazed downward for a moment, thinking of something, _anything_ to stump the Queen.

"What about that army? We've received intelligence from multiple sources stating that you are rebuilding you army. Are you trying to invade again? Do you want to pillage and destroy even more?"

The Queen continued to look into his eyes.

"I have no intention of invading. My country is defenseless right now, so we do need a sort of army to defend our people from invasion or masses of bandits seizing the opportunity to pillage towns,"

"But I heard that _someone_ was requesting aid for you're the protection of your army while rebuilding, am I right, Roy?"

Roy stared blankly at the man. He didn't remember telling anyone else about the letters except Marcus, Merlinus, his father and the merchant. _Did that merchant betray me? Was one of his apprentices a spy for Etruria? Why would they be spying on me anyway?_

"No, you're not right. I was simply, uh, in contact with the other lord. I wasn't requesting any aid from him at all! We were just communicating, that's all!"

The man snickered as he removed a sheet of paper from a leather satchel. He slid the paper over to Roy.

"What do you call this then, Roy?"

Roy studied the sheet of paper. It was a letter, clearly addressed to Ephraim of Renais. Roy skimmed through the letter, stopping at a particular sentence: _'I know this is quite a big favor, but could you lend troops the Bern army? They are in need of protection…' _Roy slammed the paper down on the table in anger.

"I didn't write this letter! This is not my penmanship!"

"I don't care about how you write. Look at the bottom of the letter,"

Roy gazed at the bottom of the letter. At the very bottom was Roy's signature and the Seal of Pherae. Roy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What!? There's only one seal in the castle, and it's locked in my chambers! I'm the only who knows where the key is! This _has_ to be forged! There's no way another has been made!"

The blonde man snickered.

"Good job, young noble. You just admitted your wrongdoings, boy! Everything you said was true: The only seal, its hiding spot in your chambers, the only key in possession by you! The three tumble lock system! This evidence is…!"

"How did you find out all this information?"

Everyone at the table turned in the direction of the suave voice. It came from Rorak.

"What do you mean? He just admitted it!"

"I'm afraid you're wrong. Can you please restate the things you consider definite evidence?"

The blonde man hesitated.

"The sole seal, the hiding spot—"

"According to Marques Roy, he never mentioned a hiding spot, but simply said it was locked up. Continue."

The man began to shake.

"The only key is in possession of him, and there is a three tumble lock system guarding the seal,"

Rorak smiled. Roy studied the smile, Rorak's perfect teeth showing. The wrinkles on his face were too even, almost too perfect.

"Marques Roy, you did say that you were the only person that knew where the key was, correct?" Roy nodded in reply.

"And you, I believe it is Arthur from your papers, said that Roy was in possession of the key at all times, correct?"

Arthur gulped and nodded. Rorak's smile grew larger.

"If you know that Roy has the key, and there is a three tumble lock system guarding the seal, then there is only one solution to this minor mystery: someone had to open it. Arthur, I do believe you sent a spy to spy on the young Marques. While he was off fighting in the war, your spy found the key, since he wasn't writing from his chambers. This comes back to the fact that Roy didn't use the seal at all, but instead used the crest of the Lycian Army in his sent letters. This is the letter that Bern obtained from the merchant, look at the seal."

Both Roy and Arthur observed the seal. Rorak was correct: the seal used in his letters were in fact from one of the many seals of the Lycian Army. Roy knew that thieves would be about and carrying the seal would not be a great idea. Arthur could only tremble in silence. Lilina called three knights to the room.

"I want you all to confine him and his friend too! They have committed three illegal acts in spying in vacancy, forging a document, and lying. You will be detained,"

The knights proceeded to cuff Arthur and the other mute blonde man. They walked out the room, Arthur gazing at Rorak with a death stare. Roy sighed and looked over at Rorak who wore a friendly smile on his face.

"Sir Rorak, I would like to inquire about the release of the merchant—"

"It is done. We will also resupply his goods and give you the letter back. It was a total misunderstanding. Please forgive us,"

The council continued peacefully, each nation, save Etruria, speaking out about atrocities and other wrongdoings during the War. Sacae representatives did not show up the meeting, but sent a letter in writing stating that they would not lend warriors to either side for the next one hundred years. Within Lycia itself, Thria, Laus, Worde, Khathelet, Araphen, Ryerde, Santaruz, Tuscana, Tania, and Badon were to withdraw troops for the next five years to help rebuild their respective kingdoms. Pherae and Ostia were the only two states providing men in the active army, but Ostian soldiers were called back home to help rebuild, leaving the men of Pherae in the active army, defending all of Lycia.

As the meeting concluded, Roy walked over to the woman with the silver hair. She greeted him with a warm smile.

"Hello. I haven't formally introduced myself. My name is Lana. I'm pleased to meet you,"

Roy smiled.

"I'm Roy. The pleasure is mine."  
The two chatted, albeit for a short while since Marcus urged Roy to leave Ostia before the crowd got too rowdy. The trip back was much different from the trip there. Roy had a lot of things on his mind, including the accusations from the Etrurian representative Arthur. _I wonder why he would say such things. Was Rorak really telling the truth about the Etrurian spy scenario. How did he figure it out so quickly; is he really as smart as people make him out to be? _ Roy dozed off in the midst of a pink evening sky.

**That's the end of Chapter III! Sorry if I got too carried away with the descriptions in the middle sections. I know a **_**lot**_** of adjectives and I get like that whenever I want to put emphasis on something. The Ostian building is supposed to be really pretty, so I used a lot of different adjectives to describe it. Anyway, read and review and look forward to Chapter IV sometimes toward the end of next week (probably around nest Friday or Saturday).**


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